


Sympathetic Logic

by PumpkinPie59



Category: Tokyo Mew Mew
Genre: Alien Character(s), Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Culture, Alien Invasion, Alien/Human Relationships, Aliens, Angst, Awkward Tension, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Foe Yay, Friendship/Love, Gurple, Interspecies, Interspecies Romance, Love Triangles, Magical Girls, Pietasu, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:55:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23554168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinPie59/pseuds/PumpkinPie59
Summary: When Pie witnesses Retasu's heartfelt rambling about their complicated situation, Retasu finds herself in the middle of a war between her friends and someone she thought was her enemy.This is Retasu's train of thought concerning Pie in episodes 47 to 52.Pietasu / Gurple(sequel to Logical Sympathy)
Relationships: Midorikawa Lettuce & Momomiya Ichigo, Midorikawa Lettuce/Pie, Midorikawa Lettuce/Shirogane Ryou
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I suggest reading the first story, Logical Sympathy, before reading this. It might be pretty confusing otherwise.

“Hello, Mew Lettuce-san.”

Retasu was in shock. Pie was right in front of her. He was listening to her emotional rambling for who knows how long. She felt her face start to warm up. How embarrassing …

She swallowed dryly and tried to rub her face dry. “H—hello … Pie-san.”

He didn’t respond right away. His face remained stoic as his gaze moved from one part of her face to another, as if he was closely studying each individual detail. Retasu couldn’t possibly imagine why he was doing this, but being his center of attention for so long only made her face warmer. Clumsily pushing up her glasses with a shaky hand, she cleared her throat awkwardly.

“Why are you here? I … I mean, how did you find me? I mean … uh … Can I help you? I mean—oh, goodness—did you hear all that? I mean … ugh!” She brought her hand to her forehead in exasperation. What could she say?

Pie didn’t seem to respond to any of her questions until she finished performing her act of nervousness. His gaze moved from her (admittedly barely noticeable) dimple on her chin to her eyes as his eyebrows raised in acknowledgment.

“In honesty, I don’t know why I’m here. I found you by accident. I do not need your help. And yes, I did hear ... ‘all that’,” he said. Retasu stared at him in shock that he remembered every one of her questions. She quickly composed herself as she remembered which alien this was.

She bit her lip. “Uh … so—“ She inhaled sharply when she noticed Pie moved to sit next to her. “I … I … I …”

She could’ve sworn she saw him smile slightly at her surprise, if only for a moment.

“It does feel almost wrong, doesn’t it?” he asked quietly.

“Hm?” Retasu felt almost uncomfortable. She wouldn’t have expected him to say something that sounded so regretful.

“This war.” He looked up at the stars. “As a child, I knew the prophecies foretold we would return to Earth. I never would have guessed it would be reclaimed by war.”

Retasu looked at him incredulously. “Then why … ?”

“Mew Lettuce-san, you must understand. My leader—my  _ ruler _ —is the only one who knows how to keep my people safe. What he commands, I must do.”

“But … what if he’s wrong?”

He sighed. “He’s not mortal, Mew Lettuce-san. He is above both of us. He knows what is and isn’t, what was, and what will be. He knows what is best for my people.”

Retasu grabbed her neglected blanket and wrapped it around herself. “But … does he know what’s best for humans?”

Pie shifted. “Yes.”

Retasu looked down in hesitancy. “And … what would that be?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“... Probably not?”

Pie looked down at her. “I’m flattered that you wish my people well, but you cannot do anything to change your fate.”

Retasu frowned. “You talk about the death of humanity as if it isn’t that big of a deal.”

Pie looked away. “It shouldn’t be to me.”

“Is it? A big deal to you, I mean …”

Pie didn’t answer. Retasu ignored her fear of the tall, rather intimidating alien to ask another question.

“If you could choose the fate of both your people and mine, would you want both peoples to live happily, together or otherwise?”

Pie looked at her with a look—not quite disgusted, but it definitely felt that way. “I am under no authority to answer that.”

Retasu pouted. “Yes, you are. It’s a question of opinion, not fact.”

“I cannot choose my people’s fate.”

“But if you could—“

“Mew Lettuce-san, please—“

“It’s just a question! What if—“

“Reta— … Mew Lettuce-san, ‘what if’ questions are irrational.”

Realizing he almost said her given name, she shut her mouth. An emotion she couldn’t explain rushed through her. She subconsciously started fidgeting with a strand of hair as she broke eye contact and looked away.

“I just … wanted to know if you were a good person …” she mumbled, slurring the words together so it sounded hardly understandable. She wondered for a moment if Pie understood her sentence, though she didn’t doubt he at least heard her.

Retasu felt his gaze still on her. She then bit her lip as she realized her disrespect. “I’m sorry … I … I should’ve dropped the subject …”

She heard the gentle rustle of his shirt as he moved to look back at the stars. “... I’m sorry, as well.”

Her head snapped back to look at him as her eyes widened. What he had said was hardly audible, but the silence of the night had given her the ability to hear it well enough.

“W—what?”

He glanced at her, furrowed his brows, and looked away so she couldn’t see his face. “I shouldn’t have called your question irrational.”

Retasu’s eyebrows raised. “But … aren’t I your enemy?”

He turned to her again. “ _ You _ apologized, didn’t you?”

“Well … well, yes, but—“

“Then there shouldn’t be an issue.”

“S—sorry, I just didn’t know how to respond, I guess.”

“I understand.”

Retasu pulled her blanket tighter.

“Can I ask you another question?” she asked.

Pie laid back against the roof and looked back at the stars. Crossing one leg over the other, he said, “I suppose.”

She allowed herself to lean back, as well, not realizing the intimacy of lying beside him. “Why didn’t you attack me today?”

He paused. “I  _ did _ attack your team today.”

She frowned. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

He winced.

She pressed, “I was the only one you didn’t attack.”

He looked away. “I … You …”

She blushed as she realized she had flustered him.

“You … make me think of my family.” He seemed unsure of his answer. He looked back at her before continuing, “That is, you make me worry about them.”

She blinked. “Why?”

“Because you seemed … concerned about my relationships back when …”

“... when we had that talk?”

Pie nodded and looked down, as if in thought.

“Oh … W—well, I hope they’re doing well.” She smiled encouragingly.

He merely glanced at her before looking back at the stars.

Retasu looked at him sympathetically, reading his response as regretful. Seeing how serene he looked, she allowed herself to study his face as he remained quiet.

She tried to read him, but he remained an enigma. She couldn’t help but find a need to know him. Something about him seemed to tell her he wasn’t a bad person after all.

As Pie pursed his lips together, she could now see his cheek dimples. The edges of her mouth curved into a smile.

“You know it’s rude to stare, right?”

She jumped in embarrassment. Composing herself, she replied, “I … I could say the same to  _ you _ !”

Pie frowned. He sat up. “That’s not—!” He stopped himself, sighed, and stood up. “I should go back.”

Retasu felt a pang of disappointment. She felt like she enjoyed his company, at least because they weren’t fighting this time. “Okay …”

He looked at her again. “Please ... do not tell anyone about anything that happened tonight. I shouldn’t have been here.”

Retasu was quiet for a moment. “I understand.”

He nodded before turning.

“Pie-san!”

He stopped.

“Will you visit again?” It was a stupid thing to ask, but she did genuinely enjoy seeing his vulnerable side.

His eyebrows raised as his cheeks seemed to turn a pale pink. His gaze shifted from one of her eyes to the other, then back again. He started to lift himself off the ground. “I think that would be a foolish thing to do, Mew Lettuce-san.”

Retasu looked down. “Oh …”

“But I am truly flattered,” he said quickly before teleporting, as if flustered by what he was saying.

Retasu looked up to see him gone. She smiled. He seemed to enjoy her company, too. What this meant for the future, she was not certain …

But at least they were friends … or something …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in a day.
> 
> I haven't written in a while. I feel bad about it.
> 
> Btw. Writing from Retasu’s perspective will prove a challenge because Pie can be hard to understand when you’re not inside his head. So this sequel is going to have Retasu struggle to read Pie. Fun stuff.
> 
> Anyway ... my show got postponed to the end of May (unless we can't do it at all thanks to all this coronavirus stuff).
> 
> BTW
> 
> YOU KNOW HOW PIE HAS GLASSES IN THE RETURN MANGA???
> 
> WHAT IF
> 
> HEAR ME OUT
> 
> WHAT IF!!!!
> 
> HE DOESN'T NEED THEM
> 
> BUT HE WEARS FAKE GLASSES
> 
> TO COPY RETASU
> 
> xD
> 
> alright anyway, thank you so much for reading uwu
> 
> have a nice day, lovelies


	2. Chapter 1 - Camaraderie

Retasu hated keeping secrets. She wasn’t terrible at it, but it made her  _ feel _ terrible. Every time she looked at any of her teammates, she felt a rush of guilt.

Why shouldn’t she tell the others that she made personal contact with the enemy?

But at the same time …

Why  _ should _ she tell the others? Pie was answering her personal questions because he was the one she had tried to debate with. He had told her he didn’t want the others to know.

Retasu sighed as she placed the last clean dish in its place.

“What’s wrong, Retasu?”

She jumped, her elbow knocking a glass of water off the counter. She flushed as she heard the glass break. She hadn’t remembered that being there.

“Retasu …” she heard Ichigo say in amusement.

“I’m so sorry, Ichigo-san!” She hurried to the pantry and grabbed a broom and dustpan. “Let me get that.”

As she started to clean the embarrassing mess, she felt Ichigo tap her shoulder.

“Something on your mind, Retasu?”

“Uh …” Retasu felt her cheeks grow warm as she did her best not to look suspicious. “W—well …”

“Oh!” Ichigo grabbed her shoulder and leaned in toward her ear. “Is it about Shirogane?”

Retasu’s eyes widened, embarrassed but glad that she had found another way to hide her actual predicament. “Yes! That’s exactly it! I’m struggling with … Sh—Shirogane-san.”

That sentence was painful to say.

“Aw, Retasu! You know you can tell me about that sort of thing!” Her features darkened. “What did he do this time?”

Retasu’s gaze darted across the kitchen as she tried to come up with something Ryou might do to upset her. “He … He … ignored me earlier.”

“That moron,” Ichigo muttered with a snarl. She quickly grinned at Retasu. “I’m sure he was just distracted. Here. I’ll clean this up for you. Why don’t you bring him … this.”

Ichigo picked up a plate of blackberry pie and offered it to the slightly flustered fourteen-year-old. Retasu felt her right pinky finger twitch in response.

Why a pie? It could’ve been anything else.

Now she only felt worse.

Retasu smiled sheepishly. “Uh, yes. That’s … a great idea, Ichigo-san. Thank you.”

She grabbed the plate from her grinning pink-clad friend and quickly scurried from the room.

Retasu huffed. Talking to Ryou was the last thing she wanted at the moment. She looked down at the pie. Ichigo was a kind soul. She only wanted to help. Retasu didn’t want to say she was going to do something and … not do it. After all, wasn’t she a woman of her word?

Retasu bit her lip, gathering the courage to enter the basement.

Should she?

She glanced down at the pie. A small visit couldn’t hurt.

She just had to keep her mouth shut.

-///-

“Shirogane-san?”

“Hm?” His voice was gruff, most likely from a lack of sleep. For all she knew, he had probably been working on whatever project it was this time overnight. She smiled. That would not have been surprising in the least.

… Would Pie do the same?

Retasu’s smile dropped, and she raised an eyebrow at herself. Why would Pie distract her from Ryou?

Odd.

Once again smiling, she said, “I brought you some … p—pie.” She inwardly cursed herself for stuttering.

She saw him smirk for a moment, lifting her spirits. “Thanks, Retasu.” He cleared a spot on the desk, letting some papers drop to the floor. He didn’t seem to care. “You can place it right here.”

She frowned. “Don’t you need a break, Shirogane-san?”

Ryou turned to her and smiled. “I appreciate that you care, Retasu, but there’s no time for leisure when you’re trying to save humanity.”

Retasu blinked.

It seemed that there was time for leisure when you’re trying to  _ destroy _ humanity, she thought sarcastically.

She knew that wasn’t fair. Pie knew he shouldn’t have been wasting his time with her—that was the reason he had left so hastily, after all.

Retasu bit her lip. Pie  _ again _ ?

Very odd.

“I suppose that makes sense, Shirogane-san.”

She looked down shyly. It seemed she couldn’t get Pie out of her head.

When was her shift over? 19:00?

Only an hour.

She could stay strong until then.

She allowed herself to approach Ryou and set the plate of pie on the lazily cleared-off desk.

“I know you can do this,” she said sweetly. “But please, take a moment and enjoy a snack.”

Ryou paused, but nodded. “I suppose I can allow a moment. Thank you, Retasu.”

She smiled wider as a blush warmed her cheeks.

“Hey,” he said. “Uh, Retasu?”

“Hm?”

“Have you seen anything alarming I should know about?”

Retasu stepped back in shock, only to slip on one of Ryou’s dropped papers and fall to the floor. She blushed brightly.

“Um … What makes you say that, Sh—Shirogane-san?” she said, trying dreadfully hard not to sound suspicious.

Amused at her clumsiness, Ryou smiled and shrugged. “Since the false alarm last night, I haven’t seen anything about μ Aqua. No alien readings either. I’d like to believe they’re hiding like cowards, waiting for another μ Aqua reading, but they’re probably getting ready for another attack.”

He rested his head on his fist. “If you’ve come across one of them or a chimera anima, then that could give me some insight, based on where they were.”

“Oh.” Retasu bit her lip. Don’t say anything, she kept telling herself.

“ _ Have _ you seen anything, Retasu?”

She jumped and shuffled to her feet, feeling uncertain about herself. “Uh, well, I can’t say I have.”

She hated lying.

Ryou eyed her, raising a brow. “... Okay. Well, let me know immediately if you  _ do _ see something.”

“Of course, Shirogane-san,” she said quickly before turning. She needed to leave before she blurted out something she’d regret. “Enjoy the pie!”

She rushed to the basement door and quickly left.

Retasu was thoroughly puzzled at herself. Ryou was still his wonderful self, but she seemed to only think of him a few moments before Pie overtook her thoughts.

Ryou didn’t deserve that. He was a hard worker. He wanted to save humanity.

But Pie was also a hard worker, and he wanted to save his own people.

Her stomach churned as she realized that she felt guilty for the fact that she and her team were trying to foil Pie’s plan. A plan he probably worked so hard on.

Why? Why should she feel guilty about that?

They were enemies.

She closed the basement door behind her.

But he was now her friend, wasn’t he?

She shook her head in exasperation. This was too much to think about while on shift.

She scurried to the kitchen. She would wait until she got home.

-///-

“Retasu! Is that you?” Retasu heard her mother call as she opened the door to her family’s apartment.

“Yes, Mama!”

“How was school and work?”

Retasu set down her book bag on the kitchen table and walked to her mother, who was finishing up dinner.

“Um, today felt ... long, for some reason,” she said as she hugged her mom from behind. Perhaps ‘long’ was not the right word. ‘Emotionally and logically confusing’ probably summed up her feelings better.

Her mom stopped her work and turned to return the hug.

Stroking her daughter’s hair, Yomogi said, “I’m sorry to hear that, sweetie. Would you like some tea?”

Retasu nodded. “Yes, please.”

Yomogi led Retasu to the table before turning to start boiling tea water. Retasu watched her mom for a moment before fiddling with the end of her braid.

“Mama?”

Yomogi continued to prepare the boiling water. “Hm?”

“Um …” She thought for a moment. “... if … if you …”

She bit her lip.

Yomogi turned to Retasu. “Is something wrong?”

Retasu shook her head. “No … I just … Suppose you knew someone … and you used to think he was trying something terrible for no good reason, but … after some time … you realized he wanted to save people, but he thought he had no other choice but to follow his current plan … that could cause other people pain. Would you say he was justified? Do you think you could change his mind?”

Yomogi paused. “... Do you know someone like this?”

Retasu blushed. Maybe she shouldn’t have mentioned Pie to her mother. Still, she wanted some wisdom in the situation. What if her instincts were all wrong?

Bringing a hand to her warm cheek, she stuttered, “N—no! No, I … Just … Just suppose …”

Yomogi’s eyebrows raised, as if she recognized her daughter’s flustered behavior. “Retasu—!”

A sharp whistle started from the pitcher. Yomogi turned the stove off and sat at the table.

She sighed and looked at her daughter with a troubled expression. “Retasu, I think … I’m not going to say that you could change this person’s mind. That’s entirely up to them, and … if they aren’t willing to give in to your … logic, then maybe it’s a lost cause.”

Retasu’s brows furrowed. Somehow she couldn’t bring herself to agree. “You didn’t answer my first question.”

Yomogi pursed her lips. “I would not say he was justified. Though if I’m being honest with you, I wouldn’t say anybody is completely justified. Every person, whether they have good intentions or not, is going to be at fault for  _ something _ . We just have to use our better judgement as often as we can.”

Retasu didn’t respond. She looked down in thought.

What was  _ she _ at fault for?

All this time she had focused on the aliens’ faults, staying completely ignorant to her own faults. Was she at fault for not understanding the pain they had gone through? For taking their goal for granted? What had Pie said? His leader was the only one who could save his people?

He was desperate, she realized. He hoped so much for his people’s salvation, that he felt that listening to a homicidal false god was the only option.

Retasu fiddled with her braid again. Now, more than ever, she wanted to help him. Help him understand there were so many better options. That he didn’t need to listen to his leader.

Retasu’s throat dried when a terrible thought came to her mind.

Would Pie be punished if he didn’t listen to his leader?

Would he be  _ killed _ ?

Retasu bit her lip. That thought felt so much more painful than she thought it would. Was it wrong for her to care so much for her enemy?

“Retasu, are you alright?” her mother asked, worryingly as she set a cup of green tea in front of Retasu.

She snapped out of her thoughts and looked up at Yomogi.

“Y—yes. I just … Something … occurred to me.”

-///-

Retasu finished her dinner and homework in a hurry. She practically didn’t remember doing either. She was currently sitting on her bed, in light blue pajamas, pulling on fuzzy pink socks for comfort against the cold.

Again, her mind wandered to Pie.

Extreme weather, huh? What kind? Extreme cold or extreme heat?

Retasu couldn’t imagine which was worse.

Her mind wandered back to Christmas. It had snowed. The aliens wore so little, as they usually did, but they didn’t seem as affected by the cold as she was. But last summer, Tart had looked miserable in the heat. 

Retasu concluded that the ‘extreme weather’ was blizzards and freezing temperatures. Temperatures much worse than the snow on Christmas Eve. After all, it made much more sense for them to handle cold better than humans if they were so used to it.

Maybe she could confirm with Pie next time they talked.

… if there was a next time.

Retasu sighed. Why did she want to talk to Pie again so  _ badly _ ?

As she tried to focus on something other than the oldest alien, she glanced at the calendar. March 13th.

Only two days before Ichigo’s birthday.

Retasu fiddled with her braid again. Ichigo had been a Mew for a year now. Minto had joined only a day after. When had Retasu joined?

Oh, yes. The day before Ichigo’s birthday. Retasu inhaled. How had a whole year passed already?

Ichigo was now almost 14. Retasu was turning 15 soon, herself.

… How old was Pie? When was  _ his _ birthday?

Retasu tugged on her braid in frustration.

Why was he so distracting?

Retasu hopped off her bed. Pacing her room, she debated what to do with her time.

Read? No, there was no way she could focus on a single paragraph in this frame of mind.

Make dolls? With what inspiration?

Retasu groaned.

There was always stargazing … 

But last time she did that, Pie had found her. Would that happen again?

Retasu’s right pinky finger twitched.

Something about tempting that fate seemed very pleasant to her.

Retasu grabbed her blanket, opened the window, and started climbing onto the roof … and then almost fell off in shock ...

… and maybe even joy.

Pie was there, looking up at the stars.

She squeaked as she regained her balance.

“W—what are you doing here?!” she exclaimed.

He turned in silence and gazed at her. “I’m … avoiding Tart.”

Retasu blinked. “So … you came here?”

Pie nodded.

“W—why? You keep telling me we’re enemies.” Retasu grabbed her blanket tighter, hoping she wouldn’t lose her balance again.

“We are. But you … are enjoyable company off the battlefield.”

Retasu blinked in surprise. She didn’t expect him of all people to say something like that.

“Th--thank you, Pie-san.”

He nodded before standing up, walking toward her, and pulling her onto the roof, making sure she didn’t lose her blanket.

Retasu blushed furiously and pushed her glasses up in embarrassment. “Uh … thank you … again.”

He nodded.

With another awkward squeak, Retasu realized she was still holding onto his arms for balance. She let go and quickly sat down, burying herself in her fluffy, blue blanket.

Pie stared at her for a moment, seemingly puzzled—or maybe startled—at her behavior. He sat next to her, a bit too close for her tastes.

She pulled her blanket tighter. She wanted to see him again, but seeing this side of him was still rather odd and unfamiliar. Why was he so drawn to her?

The Pie of the battlefield was cold and calculating. While he hadn’t completely lost either trait in her presence, he was much more gentle and vulnerable.

Yes. Very, very odd.

Retasu’s heart started beating faster. She didn’t want to bring up their war after her conversation with her mom. If his leader—Deep Blue, was it?—was as terrible as she perceived him to be, perhaps it would be best to let the subject slide for a moment. Angering Pie was last thing she wanted to do. If anything, she wanted to get to know him.

She looked up at him shyly. He was still looking at the stars. She pondered this briefly and looked up as well.

Was he looking for his planet?

Her eyes moved from one constellation to another.

She smiled. Forgetting for a moment who she was with, she giggled carelessly. Pie looked down at her, no expression on his face.

She placed her hand on his wrist and used her free hand to point at a portion of the night sky, saying, “See those stars there?”

He nodded, despite not looking where she was pointing. He was still looking down at her.

“If you connect that bright star to those four, there, there, there, and there, it looks a bit like Masha,” she said, still holding his arm. He finally moved his gaze back to the stars.

“... Isn’t that constellation a part of what humans call Cancer?” he asked, visibly puzzled.

She blushed. “Um … I suppose …” She hastily let go of his arm and started fidgeting with her braid. “I don’t really pay attention to what most people call the stars. I like to come up with my own constellations. It’s … much more fun.”

He blinked. “I … see.”

She looked down, flushed. Why did she share that?

A moment of silence left Retasu to struggle with her embarrassment.

“... I like your constellation better.”

She looked up at him in surprise.

“It looks much more like your leader’s … machine … than …” He frowned. “... a … cancer cell?”

Retasu giggled at that. “I believe it’s … Latin, probably, for crab.”

Pie’s eyebrows raised in realization. “... Oh.”

Retasu covered her mouth as she tried to hide more giggles. She knew it was rather rude. It was a simple mistake.

“... My apologies. I’ve yet to study some specific details of your planet’s languages,” he stated, looking away from her.

Retasu’s eyebrows curved in pity. “I--it’s alright! I meant no offense. Your understanding of Earth’s culture is much better than mine is of yours.”

He said nothing but turned to meet her gaze. An idea struck her.

“If you have any questions about Earth culture, I’d be happy to try and answer,” she said cheerfully. Again, his eyebrows raised--this time, in surprise.

He looked back at the stars, seemingly trying to think of a question. Retasu watched him expectantly.

“... How humans treat courting,” he finally said. “I find it odd.”

Retasu pouted her lip. She couldn’t help but wonder why  _ this _ of all subjects was what he chose.

“What about them in particular?”

Pie frowned. “Why does it take so long for many to choose a lifelong spouse? Why do so many choose to cause heartbreak to others, rather than stay faithful? And I do not understand why so many humans hesitate to verbally confess strong affection … love … while already in a relationship.”

Retasu stared at him, bewildered. These were … surprisingly deep questions. And he seemed almost angry at his words. She immediately wondered how serious courting was in his culture.

“I …” She blinked, unsure of what to say. “Uh … I think some people take longer to find the person they want to … marry. They run into someone they don’t connect very well with … or are manipulated by someone terrible. Sometimes, the person they love doesn’t return their feelings.”

Retasu’s heart suddenly felt heavy. Ryou … 

She swallowed and opened her mouth, trying to come up with something else to say.

“This is not how Iaweians court,” Pie confessed. Retasu looked at him.

“Iaweians?”

Pie nodded. “My people.”

Retasu formed an O shape with her mouth. “What is …  _ courting _ like for … Iaweians?

Pie seemed to wince for a moment. “We do not have what you call ‘dating’. If one develops a romantic interest for someone, a camaraderie is formed first, so you can determine if they are … acceptable for a spouse.”

Retasu raised a brow. “Isn’t that dating?”

Pie shook his head. “It is a friendship. You can have more than one camaraderie with romantic intention in mind, if you cannot decide between possible spouses.”

Retasu paused, but nodded. “I … think I understand. How would someone start courting then?”

Pie’s lips twitched into a smile for a split second. “They would confess their love. If it is reciprocated, a courtship is formed … I suppose it would be similar to a human … engagement?”

Retasu’s eyes widened. Maybe it was because she was so used to her own culture, but going from friendship to engagement seemed so rushed to her.

“H—how long would a courtship last?” she asked.

“Up to five years. It is … required to claim a spouse rather quickly. Unless physically unable, every Iaweian must provide at least one child to keep the civilization alive. It is why, I imagine, adulthood starts much sooner for Iaweians than it does for most human cultures.”

Retasu jumped. “When does adulthood start for you?”

Pie turned to her. “Fifteen years of age,” he said simply.

Retasu stared at him in shock. “A—and how old are you?”

“I will be seventeen in … a few minutes.”

Retasu nearly fainted. “Wait, wait, wait. Not only are you an adult by Iaweian standards, but your birthday is … tomorrow?”

Pie nodded.

Retasu gaped at him. “Why didn’t you say anything?!”

Pie tilted his head to the side. “I didn’t think it important.”

Retasu’s shock turned to pity in the blink of an eye. “W—why?”

Pie opened his mouth, then shut it. He hummed quietly. “I apologize. I had forgotten that humans find birthdays much more valuable than Iaweians do.”

“Well … I … Don’t you find yourself worth celebrating?” she asked.

Pie looked back at the stars. “Not exactly.”

“Well … I think I do,” Retasu said quietly. Pie’s neck nearly snapped as he turned to her quickly in surprise. “We can celebrate your birthday together, if you’d like?”

Pie’s right ear visibly twitched as he stared at her with wide eyes. He cleared his throat as he tried to contain himself. “That … would be … pleasant.” His pale skin now looked darker, and Retasu could only guess that he was blushing. He turned away from her and covered the top half of his face with his hand.

Retasu’s right pinky finger twitched at this response. Retasu had no idea what to do with herself at that moment, so she squeaked, “H—happy birthday?”

He nodded pathetically in response.

Retasu wanted to change the subject so badly now.

“Um … Pie-san?” His ear twitched again. “Did you know that your birthday is the day before Ichigo-san’s?”

Pie turned to her, still looking quite flustered. He nodded. “... Quiche has mentioned that to me.”

Retasu smiled. “I find it kind of funny that two of my friends have birthdays right next to each other.”

She half-expected him to correct her for calling him a friend rather than an enemy, but instead he gave her a small smile in response, his blush still very visible despite the dark atmosphere.

Retasu swallowed, trying to think of something else to say. “Uh … I also joined Tokyo Mew Mew on this day a year ago.”

He paused. “... It seems this day has more meaning than I thought.”

Retasu blushed.

Pie looked back at the stars.

Retasu tried to find where he was looking. “Are you looking for your planet?”

He shook his head. “No. I’ve found it.”

She leaned in close despite herself. “Where?”

He pointed above them. “The star next to that brighter one. That’s the solar system that holds Tosu.”

“You don’t call it Iawei?”

He shook his head again. “Iawei is the name of the civilization. Tosu is what we call the planet. In our language, it means ‘cursed’.”

“Oh,” she responded. “Do you call it that because of the weather?”

He nodded.

“Is it cold?”

“Extremely,” he said.

She looked back at the star. She giggled softly.

“What’s funny about that?”

“It’s not that.” Another giggle. “That star’s a part of my glasses constellation.”

She did not expect to hear him chuckle in response. His cheek dimples were now visible. Her throat went dry.

“You … have a glasses constellation?” he asked with an amused smile.

She looked at him, dumbfounded. She nodded. “It … It looks like my glasses to me.”

He looked back at the stars.

“... I can see it now.” He laughed again. She smiled. He had a nice laugh. Not obnoxious but calm and controlled.

Pie looked back at her. “... What about you?”

“Hm? What  _ about _ me?”

“Do you want to know more about Iaweian culture?”

Retasu blinked. She looked at him, trying to think about something she wanted to know. Her gaze rested on his wrapped braid.

“... Why do you have braided hair?”

Pie’s eyebrows lifted, and he looked down in thought, taking a moment to form his words.

Maybe that topic was too random. Maybe she should’ve chosen something else.

She watched him as his eyebrows furrowed slightly. Hoping she didn’t offend him, she bit her lip.

“… The braids represent maturity. In Iaweian culture, adults must have at least one strand of hair long enough to braid. There are exceptions if one is unable to grow hair.” He paused and toyed with the end of his braid. Retasu nodded in understanding.

He continued, “The wrappings, however, represent loyalty to my people. If you don’t wear them, you’re revealing yourself as a traitor. Those with no hair wear their wrappings as a headband.”

“What happens if someone doesn’t wear the wrappings?” Retasu asked. Pie shifted uncomfortably.

“… Most are thrown into isolation ... with the intention of letting them starve to death.”

Retasu’s eyebrows raised. “Oh …” She looked down in silence and pondered the situation.

It was fair, wasn’t it? A dying people had to work together to keep their culture alive. 

She tensed as she felt Pie place his hand on her shoulder.

“It’s … harsh, but necessary for the common people. We can’t let rebels cause trouble, especially of the violent sort.”

Her eyebrows raised. “No, I understand. I guess I just wasn’t prepared for that answer.”

Pie nodded and slowly removed his hand from her shoulder, seemingly letting his fingers linger. Retasu watched his hand as he retracted in slow silence. She let her gaze again move to his braid resting between his ear and his upper jaw. A thought entered her mind.

“Pie-san?”

“Hm?”

“Is there a special way you braid your hair in your culture?”

Pie sat up straighter in surprise. “… Yes ...”

"What’s it like?” she asked, expecting him to show her what his braid looked like without the wrapping.

After a moment, he replied, “I’ll show you.” With that, he reached for Retasu’s braids and went to work unbraiding them. This, Retasu did not expect. True to her reputation, she blushed a color worthy of a ruby. Pie didn’t seem to notice as he continued to work on her hair. Once the braids were finished unraveling, he started to brush her hair gently with his long, calloused fingers and weaved her hair into a complex braid that she didn’t recognize. How many strands did he use? Five? It was at least four.

Retasu shivered as she felt his fingers gently tug on her hair every few seconds and briefly brush her back or her arm. She practically begged God to keep her goosebumps from the admittedly pleasant touches a secret from the way-too-perceptive alien. She realized suddenly she had forgotten about her blanket, which was now bundled in her lap.

Letting herself calm down, she found herself enjoying being handled so gently by him, as if they weren’t in a war against each other.

She smiled softly. He was being gentle with her. Not forceful or cruel. He was careful not to hurt her. Somehow she could only feel affection for her enemy, not hatred. She felt she knew that he truly did not want to destroy her or the rest of mankind.

He stopped moving halfway through his work, as if he suddenly remembered something. Retasu was going to ask why, but decided against it. She felt too serene in the silence between them. She found his presence calming.

She realized with a blush that he was staring at her hair as it rested in his hand, tangled with his fingers. His thumb rubbed against the strands calmingly, perhaps hypnotically.

Retasu started fiddling with her fingers, wanting to say something, but she couldn’t bring herself to.

What was going through that mind of his?

She blushed more when a thought came to her mind: he was enjoying touching her hair. Enjoying being close to her. Enjoying giving her attention.

No.

No, he didn’t.

At least, not  _ that _ much.

That was insane.

Pie knew he had a mission. Perhaps he carried secret feelings of regret and sympathy for her and the human race, but he wouldn’t let her get in the way of saving his own people. And there was no way he would ever consider her beautiful or worth anything. Why would he want to be so close to her?

But if he didn’t think anything of her, why did he risk spending another evening with her?

It didn’t make any sense. No one would spend time with their enemy without any sort of secret dark intention. His excuse that she reminded him of his family must have been a lie. A simple reminder wouldn’t have made him want to be near her. He saw something in her, but what?

Retasu inhaled sharply. Did he ... love her?

Was this … camaraderie?

Pie seemed to notice her gasp, and he stopped his long pause and continued to braid her hair.

“I apologize,” he said. “Something ... occurred to me.”

Retasu pushed her glasses up her nose, despite not needing to. “N—no! It’s ... it’s fine. I get lost in thought, too.”

They stayed quiet as Pie finished the braid. Retasu felt his hand brush her lower back by accident. A sensation she didn’t know what to call spread across her body in surprise, leaving goosebumps on her forearms. Subconsciously, she sat up straight, arching her back.

Her right pinky finger twitched yet again. Did he notice?

She heard nothing for a moment.

“... Did I frighten you?”

He noticed.

“Uh, no! Well, maybe ...” She smiled sheepishly. “Sorry ...”

He hummed in response. Retasu felt a wave of air behind her.

“W—what was that?” she asked. She felt a ribbon of some sort brush her shoulder.

“I summoned a sash for wrapping the braid ... for educational purposes, of course.”

“... Of course ...”

Her thoughts ran wild. It was a simple gesture, but the intention left her to her imagination.

Was this a form of romantic affection in Iaweian culture, braiding a lover’s hair? Did he see the opportunity of her naivety and take it so he could have the pleasure of calling her his for just a moment?

This was a cultural hairstyle of the Iaweians. Was he doing this to see her in the same light as his people ... to make him feel better about his attraction to her?

Did he only do this to feel her hair?

If he truly  _ did _ love her, why wasn’t he hiding it better?

Pie was smart. He was logical. Wouldn’t he realize that he was giving away his feelings to the enemy?

Unless ... he wanted her to know.

She blushed.

Did he?

Did he want to  _ court _ her?

She noticed at that moment that he hadn’t done anything.

“Pie-san?”

He stayed quiet.

Maybe he always took a moment to respond.

She hummed quietly. He did seem to always think over his words before saying them. That made sense.

“... Would you like to see the braid before I wrap it?” he finally said.

Retasu looked over her shoulder. “Okay …”

He quickly wrapped one of her rubber bands around the end of the braid, grasped it gently, and placed it over her shoulder. Retasu lifted it and tried to examine it the best she could in the dark lighting.

It was a thick, tight braid. She wondered in awe at how he managed to make it so tight without tugging too hard. He was so gentle, she would’ve never expected such a braid.

“It’s beautiful, Pie-san.” She pushed the braid back over her shoulder. She tapped her knee as she blushed. “Do you often braid other people’s hair?”

He placed his hand under her neck, wrapping the sash at the base of the braid. Retasu shivered.

“... I have a sister,” he said, ignoring her response to their skin contact.

Retasu bit her lip. Perhaps she did jump to conclusions.

“Oh? What’s her name?”

Pie sighed. “Cobbler.”

Retasu smiled. Pie, Quiche, Tart, and Cobbler. What cute names. They all followed a pleasant theme. Quiche seemed to be the odd one out, being a savory dish rather than a sweet one.

“Are Tart-san and Quiche-san your brothers?” she asked.

He continued to wrap her hair. “Yes.”

She hummed. Whether their doings were malicious or not, it was rather sweet, she supposed, that they were doing it together as brothers and teammates …

… Even if they did quarrel too much.

“Tart is my brother by blood. Quiche is my cousin, but my parents adopted him when my aunt and uncle died,” he continued.

“That’s … sweet,” she said. Her smile dropped. This whole time, he had been extremely informative with her. He was being too honest with her, wasn’t he? Don’t enemies normally keep such personal things secret from each other? Now, she was almost certain he loved her.

She swallowed. “I’m sure Quiche-san really appreciated their hospitality.”

“Perhaps,” he responded. He leaned in to whisper in her ear, “Though it is always painful to lose a loved one.”

Retasu’s eyes widened and her face rapidly grew hotter. Was he referring to her? That he would lose her in their war?

“Y—yes! I—I’m sure! Though I would—wouldn’t know very m—much about that!” she stuttered loudly.

He didn’t respond at first, continuing to wrap her braid.

The suspense was killing her from the inside out.

Why did she embarrass herself like that?

“May I ask you a question?” he asked.

Retasu sighed in relief. “Yes, of course.”

“I know I‘ve said that ‘what if’ questions are irrational,” he started, “but if … if your world were to end tomorrow, would you be satisfied with the life you’ve had?”

Retasu’s lips parted as she thought.

Would she?

What would she do tonight to make up for her missed chances and opportunities?

She clicked her tongue. “Hmm … well, would you?”

He gave a slight pull as he tightened the wrappings. “No.”

“What would you do to fix that?”

“Mew Lettuce-san, I truly don’t think I’d ever find my life satisfying,” he said. “My only hope is that my people are safe.”

Retasu felt the urge to look back at him. “Is that really true, Pie-san?”

He stayed quiet as he finished the wrapping. The end of her braid fell against her lower back.

“Pie-san?”

Another silence. She felt him lift her braid and hold the end in his hand. He was studying it again.

Retasu swallowed. “If you could bring satisfaction to your life before your death, what would it be?”

“... I mean no offense, but I’m not prepared to tell you,” he said quietly.

Retasu finally did look back at him. “... Okay.”

Her braid fell out of his hand as she turned. He looked up, straight into her eyes. Retasu couldn’t turn away.

His eyes were sparkling, just like the sky above them.

“Mew Lettuce-san?”

“Hm?”

“What would  _ you _ do to make your life satisfying?”

Retasu blushed, still locking eyes. Should she tell him?

“I … I think …”

She wanted to look away. She wanted to stop admiring his dark eyes. She wanted to stop letting him hypnotize her. Was this another power his people had?

“I think I’d want to … to find love before I died,” she answered honestly, as embarrassing as it was. Her blush grew darker.

_ Why _ did she tell  _ him _ that?

He nodded, a small smile starting to grow. “An admirable objective.”

Retasu’s eyebrows raised. She wasn’t expecting that response, but his smile warmed her heart. She felt the immediate urge to smile back despite her racing heartbeat—or maybe it was her porpoise genes—telling her to retreat.

To her surprise, Pie’s eyes widened a bit before he moved away from her, avoiding her gaze. It was then she realized just how close they were. Their lips were practically only a few inches away from each other. Retasu blushed even darker, if that was even possible.

“S—sorry …” she whimpered. He shook his head.

“No … That was my fault …”

Retasu brought a hand to her lips in shock. He was blushing. Badly.

Yes, he definitely loved her.

He was here because he loved her.

He shared so much with her because he loved her.

This was  _ absolutely _ camaraderie.

She buried her face in her hands.

How could she  _ possibly _ respond to this?

“This has been pleasant, but I think I must go,” she heard Pie say. She quickly grabbed his arm in response.

“Wait!” she cried louder than she meant to. It was a moment of pure reflex.

He looked down at her hand gripping onto his forearm sleeve.

“Please stay a little longer,” she said. Why was she risking this?

He nodded slowly.

“D—do you want to look for a shooting star?” she mumbled. “For your birthday wish … since we don’t have a cake.”

“I’m not superstitious,” he stated.

“It’s just … tradition,” she said with a shrug.

Pie looked at her confusedly, but nodded anyway. He let himself shift back to a comfortable sitting position next to her.

“Thank you for spending your birthday … uh … morning with me,” Retasu whispered.

He smiled. “Thank you for showing me that birthdays can be worth something.”

She smiled back.

They sat together in silence, watching the stars, hoping for one to race across the sky. Retasu didn’t remember when she rested her head on Pie’s shoulder in a sleepy stupor, nor did she remember when Pie covered her with her blanket. She  _ did _ remember when they finally saw a shooting star.

“I think I’ve made my wish,” he said.

She yawned. “Don’t tell me. You have to keep it secret … or it won’t come true.”

He smiled again. “That’s foolish.”

“It’s tradition.” Another yawn.

He looked down at her with that hypnotic smile. “... Good night, Retasu-san.”

“Happy birthday, Pie-san,” she muttered drowsily, too tired to notice that he said her real name.

His smile was the last thing she remembered.

-///-

Retasu woke up the next morning in her bed with no recollection of how she got there.

She sat up, surprised. She reached for her glasses on the bedside table, but resting against the lenses was a small, folded note. She put her glasses on quickly. It was wrapped in the sash Pie had used to wrap her hair the night before. Retasu grabbed a strand of her hair. It was completely unbraided, now in small waves cascading down her back. She blushed at the idea of Pie unbraiding her hair as she slept. Retasu shook her head, embarrassed, and hastily opened the note.

_ Thank you for last night. _

_ In return, I will not ruin your friend’s birthday. I’ll try not to let Tart interfere, either. Unfortunately, I cannot make any promises with Quiche. I have no clue where he is. _

_ Nirabi una. _

_ Pie Kanesa _

His writing was scratchy. The kanji was hardly readable. It was almost adorable to her. His Japanese speech was near perfect. His writing … not so much.

Retasu wrinkled her nose at the two foreign words, written in lazy katakana. Iaweian, definitely. Delightfully unfamiliar to her. Why would he add them when she didn’t know what it meant?

And Kanesa? His surname?

Retasu found herself giggling at his added note about Ichigo’s birthday.

A friendship with an enemy is an odd thing indeed.

Retasu’s heart sank once she finished that thought.

It was more than friendship for him.

It was  _ camaraderie _ .

She loved Ryou. Pie was her enemy. She couldn’t give him what he wanted, and he should’ve known that.

He knew that, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternate chapter titles:  
> -in which pie flirts ... or something  
> -the writer dumps headcanons about the aliens  
> -retasu rants in her head too much  
> -the author loses her mind over both the word count and the otp content this has wow  
> -the author had her best friend read this like a thousand times because she wasn't sure if it was flowing well  
> -these two are idiots but i love them  
> -hmmm star-crossed lovers and all that
> 
> SORRY FOR THE WAIT
> 
> This took a freaking like ... month to finish this. And every time I tried to write a drabble for my gurple drabble collection to clear my head, it ended up being a future scene of this so I couldn't upload it lol. So much writer's block. So much revising and reediting. So much episode-watching to make sure this fit well.
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy it, tho.
> 
> If the cheesy otp moments don't kill you first xD
> 
> Also, if y'all know what the next episode is, it might take a chapter or two because I didn't wanna go from cutsie bonding to BAM LET'S BEAT UP MASAYA CAUSE A GHOST TOLD ME TO.


End file.
